


What it Takes to Wait

by RosettaHolmes



Category: Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 02:44:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosettaHolmes/pseuds/RosettaHolmes
Summary: Max has been waiting far too long for Fang to come home. Is he okay?





	What it Takes to Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jamiejamesd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamiejamesd/gifts).



Max was in the kitchen attempting to make dinner, much to the dismay of the others, and humming. It had been a rather dull day. It seemed  
like all anybody did anymore was do their own thing, and they only really talked during breakfast and dinner. She had planned a peach-picking trip for Saturday, but until then, not much else was going on. 

Nudge was in her room reading up on the 'latest trends from Zimbabwe' while Gazzy and Iggy said that they were doing some research for  
their online science course, but Max recognized a grenade in progress when she saw one. She didn't shut them down though, since Iggy looked so happy. Angel was doodling in her coloring books and telling stories with her dolls. She hadn't seen Fang yet, but that was pretty normal. He usually turned up for breakfast, but he was probably busy on some long flight in which he contemplates the worth of his existence and then proceeds to claim he isn't a brooder. 

Yeah, right. 

It was going surprisingly well in the kitchen; her bagels were only slightly burnt, the pasta from a box was sufficiently 'al dente', whatever  
that means, and the meat pasta sauce smelled like actual tomatoes. 

Max was pretty sure that was a good thing. 

Once she had wrestled with Nudge enough to get her to help set the table, and all the food was out and steaming, she called everyone in to  
eat. It took only a few seconds for everybody to appear since they were always hungry, and Max sat down… but something felt off.

She glanced around the table and couldn't quite place it, had she forgotten something in the kitchen?

"Where's Fang?" Angel asked, after coming up for air from her food. 

'That's it!' Max thought. She was missing Fang's quiet presence. She just assumed he would be here for dinner, since his appetite is rivaled  
only by her own, and he never missed a chance to make fun of her cooking something besides cereal and eggs. Max decided to ring him, see if he was alright. But after dinner, because she was hungry. Besides, he'd probably turn up before dinner ended anyways.

But he didn't. He didn't return after dinner, or after the table was cleared. When she called him, his sleek black phone went off in his empty  
bedroom. He didn't return after Nudge and Angel were tucked into bed, or after Max had fought Gazzy to brush his teeth and stay in bed, or even after Iggy had bid Max goodnight and left for his own room. 

Max tried not to worry. She was conditioned to assume the worst. As she sat in a plush green armchair in front of the large curtained  
window, looking out at the inky sky splattered with stars and bathed in the warmth of the table lamp next to her, her mind was plagued with memories and night terrors of cages, syringes, flashes of white and too-bright fluorescent lightbulbs. Her mind wandered to every dark corner it possessed until she was thoroughly freaking out.

She ran out onto the balcony of the tree-home, and frantically scanned the sky for a glimpse of tar-colored wings. The strong wind caused the  
tops of the trees right under her feet to dance beneath her. She blamed the breeze for the ice creeping through her veins. 

She shut her eyes and launched herself up in the air, unfurling her amber wings and feeling her hair flee her face. She turned completely  
around, and didn't see anything. There was nobody there, she was alone. 

Fang had never stayed out this late, he always came home to help Max protect the house. They used to take shifts and watch for Erasers, but  
they gave that up a few months ago.

She was beginning to wish they hadn't. 

She slowly drifted the roof, her ocean-eyes never leaving the darkness above her. She sat there, assuring and reassuring herself that Fang was  
fine. That he could take care of himself. She watched and waited, but he didn't appear. She waited, she watched, she waited, scanning the sky until her eyelids drooped. 

And then it was bright. Too, too bright. Her hand shielded her face and she grunted unhappily. Who turned on the lights? She opened her  
eyes sleepily to see Fang standing above her, looking both unimpressed and mildly amused with her sleeping on the roof. He offered her a hand, but she ignored it, launching up and hugging him, relief flooding her like cool water in a desert. He took a sharp breath in, and awkwardly patted her back. 

She stepped back, "You're okay! I was so-" and the memory of last night came back. The twisting fear in her gut, the blood running cold, the  
waiting where every second felt like an eternity. Her relief turned to a burning rage. "I was so fucking worried!" She growled, taking a violent step forward. Fang actually backed up a few paces. 

He held his hands up in defense. "I just went for a ride, Max. No big deal." 

"No. Big. Deal?!" She stalked up to him and jabbed a finger in his chest. "I was worried sick! I couldn't reach you, you left your phone at home,  
you missed dinner, you didn’t show up after eleven - what where you thinking?!"

Fang raised an eyebrow. "I can take care of myself, Max."

"I know that! But you could have left a note, or taken your phone!"

"You're overreacting." 

Max's face burned. Her hands balled into fists. "I'm overreacting?! You give me a damn panic attack, aren't even sorry, and then say I'm the one who's overreacting?!" 

"You need to calm-"

Before she even knew what she was doing, Max's hand flew back behind her, and struck Fang hard across the face.

She gasped and covered her mouth, anger turning to shock, as Fang's head snapped to one side. He clutched the side of his face and looked up at  
her with dark, wide eyes. His long black hair had fallen over one eye, and his ivory skin was already tinted pink under his palm. 

The both stood in silence, Max with her hands over her mouth, and Fang with his hand still on his cheek, hunched over slightly and staring at  
Max from under his curtain of hair. Max's stomach tied in a knot. Had she really just… slapped him? 

She took a step towards him, and was relieved to see that he didn’t flinch. He straightened up, standing a few inches taller than Max now,  
shoved his hands in his pockets. He stared at the ground. He still didn't say anything. 

"Fang, I…" She looked at the quickly darkening hand print staining his cheekbone. "I'm-"

"Did it-" Fang stopped, and took a quick breath out. "Did I, really worry you that much?"

Max was confused. Why wasn't he yelling, or something? "Yes, of course! I wasn't kidding! I thought something bad had happened." There was a  
Pause. "Look, Fang, I'm really-" 

"No." He looked at her, his dark brow furrowing, as if deep in thought. "I'm sorry. I'll take my phone next time." And with that, she stepped off the roof and landed on the porch with quiet thump, and she heard his footsteps as he traveled into his room. It was sunrise, about six a.m., and nobody else would be awake. 

Max stood on the roof in a stupor, the sun a little too warm on her face. She could never, never seem to predict or understand Fang. Still trying to  
process what on earth just happened, she too hopped off of the roof, flicked out her wings and landed on the sanded wood softly. She made her way into the kitchen and stared blankly at the cabinet, sort of figuring out breakfast. 

She absentmindedly made up six gigantic bowls of cereal and six glasses of orange juice, but a bowl of fruit on the table and made a pile of toast.  
She was putting it all on the table when Angel walked in sleepily, her golden curls tussled into a bedhead halo, rubbing her eyes and holding a horse stuffed animal in one arm. "Max?"

Max walked over to Angel and kneeled down to give her a hug. "Good morning sleepyhead, ready for breakfast?" Angel nodded, her curls  
bouncing wildly, and she clambered into a wooden chair. 

She sat her horse down next to her and looked at Max through sleep-dulled eyes. "Max did Fang come back?" 

Max felt an odd mixture of feeling in her stomach. Concern, then confusion, slight anger, and then a tiny bit more confusion. "Yeah, he did."  
She said, cutting a banana into pennies for her little girl.

"I had a weird dream last night."

"Did you?"

"Yeah, you hit him!" She giggled behind her orange juice cup. 

Max's stomach squirmed unpleasantly. "I'm going to wake up the others, okay?" She pushed the banana onto Angel's plate. 

"Okay." Angel grinned, and as Max turned away, she could swear she saw her wink.

Slowly the others began to filter in. First Gazzy, then Iggy, the Nudge, and then Fang. They all sat at the table, all looking ravaged by sleep, save  
Fang and Max, who just looked tired. 

They carried on pleasant conversation, and breakfast went off without a hitch. As Max was clearing the dishes and Nudge was 'helping' (texting),  
she heard Angel's sweet, innocent voice ask, "Fang, why are you wearing makeup?"


End file.
